


47 ways to make you mine

by GoingHaywire



Category: Hitman (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Female reader unless specified GN, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I repeat: SPOILERS FOR H3, No Smut, No solid uploading schedule sorry, One Shot Collection, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Spoilers for H3, Tags will be added as we go, cute moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoingHaywire/pseuds/GoingHaywire
Summary: 47 short fics on Agent 47*[Agent 47 X Reader]
Relationships: Agent 47/Reader, Agent 47/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	1. Uniquely you - GN

Socked feet padded against the floorboards as you made your way to the front door, carrying a mug of hot tea, barely keeping it from spilling.

  
“Did it come in yet?”

Agent 47 looked up from inspecting the newly received mail in his hands.   
“Did  _ what  _ come in?”

“The Sanguine magazine! This month, they have this male model on the cover, and he looks exactly like you!” 

He turned to you and blinked in confusion whilst you pried the glossy-paper magazine from his fingers, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his cheek before heading back to the sitting room.

47 was hot on your tail - as soon as you plopped down on the sofa, pulling up your feet to tuck them under your body, he was looming over your shoulder, eyes glued onto the magazine you were holding.

And indeed: the model displayed on the cover resembled Agent 47 in a lot of ways. Sharp cheekbones and a jawline resembling his. Clad in petrol blue with a hint of grey made the colour of his eyes come out, and around his eyes and mouth, there was some dark blue face paint. 

The only thing really different between 47 and Helmut Kruger - the model’s name, according to the cover - was that Helmut’s eyes were slightly bigger. For the rest, a striking resemblance. Something uneasy settled within his gut.

“You see?!” you exclaimed enthusiastically, “It’s almost scary!” 

You turned and held the magazine up next to his face, comparing them.

“If we look like each other so much, why buy a magazine when you can take a picture of me?”

“Oh, 47,” you murmured, “It’s just a stupid magazine. I just thought it was funny.”

“He used to be a spy for IAGO. Spies are no laughing matter.”   
“Oh, you’re a real sourpuss sometimes, babe.”

You tossed the magazine on the couch next to you, standing up to get yourself a snack from the kitchen.   
Agent 47 eyed the glossy cover, raising an eyebrow.   
Why would you care about such a brainless goon if you had  _ him? _

He reached for it and took it, starting to flip through the pages after casting a glance over his shoulder to see if you were still gone. He skipped to the page where several pictures of Helmut were displayed on rich, shimmering paper, the background starkly contrasting against the pale skin of the model’s face.

_ What did this spy have what he himself didn’t have _ , 47 thought to himself.

Perhaps it was the robe, a garb in that same petrol shade as on the front page, falling just over his knees - the same one 47 had disguised himself with a few weeks prior while out to assassinate Viktor Novikov and Dalia Margolis - perhaps he should’ve brought it home.

He would have if he had known that you liked this Kruger so much. And he would’ve punched him in his face, too. Perhaps then his soulmate wouldn’t have bought this magazine.

“Honey?” rang your voice from the kitchen, and 47 threw the magazine back onto the couch at the sound, pages dangerously crinkling.

“Yes?” he answered.   
You appeared on the threshold. “Have you seen those red velvet biscuits I had purchased from the store the other day?”

“They should be in the second drawer. I did some rearranging.” was his calm reply.

“Okay, thanks.” you said, smiling.

When you disappeared again, 47 sighed, eyes flicking back to the magazine.   
He wasn’t sure what to think of it.

  
  
  


A few days later, he stood in front of the mirror as he often did.    
Nothing was out of the ordinary, other than that you had left your eyeshadow palette near the sink, a telltale sign of your tendency to make a mess from time to time.

Agent 47 was just putting some cologne beneath his ears when his eye fell on it - navy blue, almost black, nearly the same colour as what Helmut had worn on those pictures.   
He had thought about it a few times; he wondered if you were imagining Helmut in his stead while kissing him, or when he cuddled you, if you imagined laying in different arms, and-

47 reached for the palette, bringing it a bit closer to his face to inspect the colours. His blue eyes flickered over the sink and found one of your makeup brushes, taking it before dipping it into the pan that resembled the colour on Helmut’s face most.

He looked at his own reflection for a second, contemplating something. Then, he brought it up to his face and with a single brush, he created a line over his brow and slid it all the way to the sides of his eyes, slowly creating a rectangle shape. 

There, he looked even more like the photo on your magazine cover right now.    
He started to fill in the square with more eyeshadow, padding it into his skin.

He was about to draw a stripe from the corner of his lip till right above his chin when the bathroom door opened. “Babe, I need to-”

You halted in your tracks upon witnessing 47’s halfway painted face, looking at you like a deer in the headlights. 

“Forty-sev-”   
“I can explain.”   
“Please do.” you said, relaxing your shoulders a little, getting an inkling of what was going on.

You stepped closer as 47 put down the eyeshadow palette, clearing his throat. 

“I ah…” he began, and you put your hands in his as a sign of reassurance.

“I thought that you liked Helmut Kruger so I… I decided to look like him a little more.”

“Now why would you do that?” you said with a small smile, leaning into him a little. “Why try to look any different from the most handsome man I know?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes. “So... you think Helmut Kruger is the most handsome man you know…”

“No, no 47! You’re not understanding what I’m saying. I am talking about  _ you! You  _ are the most handsome man I’ve ever known! I’m with you, remember? Don’t think a stupid model will change that.”

“Spy.”   
“Hm?” you quizzed.   
“He’s a spy.”

You hit his chest gently, soon resting your hand on it, straightening out his tie.    
“Are you a little jealous?” you whispered.    
“Jealous?” You could’ve sworn that there was a pink tinge building in his cheeks and at the tips of his ears. “Not at all.”

“Right, Helmut Kruger. Let me help you take that off. You already look great without it.”

He squeezed your hand gently. “What does he have that I don’t? Do you want me to change?”

Your response was a kiss upon his lips, gentle and sweet and tasting of toothpaste.   
“I don’t know the sod, so I wouldn’t know. What I  _ do  _ know however, is that I love  _ you _ , and I wouldn’t want anything different.”

Agent 47 cast his eyes downward, but your fingers were soon under his chin, and it must’ve looked silly, for the hitman stood well above you and had makeup smeared all over his face, and yet, he allowed you to cradle his face sweetly, an intimate gesture speaking of neverending trust.

You stood on your tiptoes, pressing a light kiss onto his lips. “I love you. Only you.”

“And I you.” he whispered back before embracing you. You remained like that for a minute or so.

Then, you reached for your container of cotton pads and a bottle of makeup remover.    
“Now, this might be a bit pesky, but you need to take it off.”

“Does it look  _ that  _ bad?”

  
You grinned. “You don’t want to know.”


	2. A little bit of happiness - GN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven't beta-read this, let's go!

Rain cascaded down on your hometown and soaked Agent 47 to the bone. He did not mind, instead stepped on through the streets with his coat tightly wrapped around himself.

Your house wasn’t far now. Agent 47 knew how to find it by heart and the familiarity of the route made him increase his speed.

In the distance, thunder rumbled.    
A muffled noise came from his coat.    
His hand went up to cradle the source of the sound, and it stilled.

When he arrived at your doorstep, he didn’t have to knock, as if you had sensed him being close and had been waiting for him at the front door. 

It swung open and revealed you, endearingly casual, clad in fleece pyjamas.

“Hey!” you greeted, “Do come in, you’re probably freezing.”

He stepped inside in your warm homestead and stood a bit awkwardly in the hallway for a few seconds. 

“Shall I take your coat?” you asked him after pressing a light kiss on his cheek, not too fond of getting your clothes all wet, deciding to kiss him a little better later on.

“Uh. Yes.”

That same muffled noise came from his long trench coat once again. You raised an eyebrow, a little confused.

“What’s that sound?”

“I uh… Nothing really.”

He held his arm closer to his chest, and you noticed. “What do you have there?”

Agent 47 opened his mouth to speak, but the words remained unsaid. Instead, he moved aside the lapels of his coat and unbuttoned it, revealing to you what he had been hiding.

Scrawny, with thin red fur, quivering on his arm.   
“A kitten…” you whispered. “Where did you…”

He cleared his throat. “You should get a towel for it. It’s very cold.”

You nodded and wordlessly took the cat from him, rushing to your kitchen in order to wrap the small thing in a tea towel. In the meantime, Agent 47 took the time to take off his coat and hang it to dry, as well as his shoes, which he placed in the hallway.

The kitten was no older than eight weeks and seemed severely malnourished. You opened your fridge to see what you had, took out a jug of milk and poured some in a mug before placing it in the microwave.

“Will you be able to nurse it back to health?” Agent 47 asked from the threshold. You looked up at him and smiled. “I think so.” you replied, holding the kitten a little closer.

“Where did you find it? And most of all, why did you decide to bring it?” you quizzed him as you took the lukewarm milk from the microwave, stirring it before dipping in your pinky finger to see how hot it was. 

“Well,” Agent 47 began whilst you poured some milk on a small saucer. “When I returned from my mission, I heard something underneath me. Nearly stepped on it, too. Its mother laid dead in a ditch a little further away, perished in either the gunfight or the stress that came with it. I…” 

He rubbed his neck a bit awkwardly as you carefully placed the now-dry kitten down on the counter top, letting it sniffle the milk before it started to eagerly lap at it.

“I couldn’t let it just… Die.”   
A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you walked up to him, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss.    
“You’re a sweet man, after all.”

The tiniest of blushes built at the tips of his ears. “I uh… The reason I brought it home was because I felt like you could use a friend… For when I’m on missions, I mean. So you won’t be too lonely.”

Your heart jumped in your chest and tears prickled behind your eyes. “Oh, 47, that’s so thoughtful of you.” 

Slipping your arm around his waist, you hugged him.    
He embraced you back, kissing your forehead.    
“I’m glad that you like it.”

You pulled back, gleaming up at the hitman in front of you. “Thank you.” you whispered. 

He tucked some hair behind your ear and softly smiled, leaning down to kiss you.

Though before his lips could hit yours, a loud sound behind you pulled you out of the gentle embrace.

The kitten meowed, loudly, and it looked at you with large, expecting eyes. The saucer it had been drinking from was empty, and it was awaiting a refill. 

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Agent 47 asked you.    
“Hm… Noisy with quite the attitude… Meowana Burnwood?”

Agent 47 blinked in confusion. “Meowana Burnwood?”   
“Yeah,” you explained, “Like Diana Burnwood, but a cat.”

A huff of laughter escaped him and he shook his head in disbelief, smiling.   
“Isn’t that kind of mean?”    
“Well, we could call it Meowana for short. Diana doesn’t have to know.”

He fell silent and looked at you, joy in his chest at the knowledge that you enjoyed his gift to you.

“Why don’t we think a bit longer on the name.” Agent 47 suggested. “After all, red cats are usually male.”

You laughed a little and went to prepare the cat another drink. “Should we name it after Lucas then? Lu-cat...”

Agent 47 raised an eyebrow and smirked. “He, too, won’t appreciate that.”

“Oh, silly me,” you sighed, “I haven’t even offered you a drink yet. What would you like?”

He held up his hand, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.” he told you, “After all, I can grab my own drink in case I get hungry. Don’t worry about me.”

A sigh left his lips as he watched you feed the kitten, joy swelling in his chest.    
He silently thanked himself for bringing it home.


End file.
